Brighter Than The Rest
by Riecob
Summary: Mercedes' POV: The McKinley prom. Who's going with who? A short story. *complete- no sequals*


For minutes she lay on her bed, staring at it, with an unblinking doe-eyed gaze. She let it slide but a few centimetres down her index finger, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, and propping herself up so that she was directed towards the mirror. The face that stared back was completely unfamiliar to her. Curled hair pulled into a high, loose bun, secured with a butterfly clip. Thin, arched eyebrows framing a soft expression, red lips, and mile long eyelashes. The dress was scarlet red with thin black lace lining the scoop neck and ruffled sleeves. Slowly she lifted her hand from her lap holding it in front of her, a small metal band visible on one of her fingers. She let a smile slip across her lips before standing up and moving to the door. She took one last look at the reflection in the mirror before stepping from the room.

Prom night. Probably the single-handed most anticipated night of someone's high school life. There was a small line up in front of the gymnasium of people still purchasing tickets, fixing their hair, or even waiting for an escort to the dance. A steady bass was all that could be heard through the doors, and the parking lot became more and more populated as the minutes passed.

At long last she found a spot several blocks away from the school. She almost regretted her heels, but nonetheless, she traipsed on, a keen look in her eyes. _What am I doing? _She thought anticipated that there would be others that didn't have dates, but her mother had given her the ring to wear, in hope that there was someone to impress. And despite the familiarity she had with being alone, she couldn't help choke back tears, hugging herself for warmth, still trudging towards the school. The kind face that greeted her was none other than Rachel Berry. "Come inside quickly, Mercedes." Rachel regarded the bite of the wind as she opened the door to greet her friend. "Are you sure about this?" Mercedes asked, unintentionally gnawing nervously at her lower lip. Rachel took her gently by the wrist. "I'm sure we're not the only ones going with friends," Rachel inquired, but she didn't look convinced to what she was saying. Mercedes knew that breaking up Finn and Quinn had been her ambition for the last month and a half. She was determined not to be in this very situation, enviously staring at the love of her life dancing with someone else on one of the most important night of her life thus far. She pretended that it didn't get to her, but Mercedes could see how much it really stung.

The doors swung open to reveal flashy decorations, hand painted posters, countless punch tables, and dapper students as far as the eye could see. Even Jacob was dressed in a full tuxedo, stepping side to side to the beat, clinging desperately to a red cup of punch and judging by his expression, a rejected bouquet of flowers. Then there were the recognizable couples. At the front, Quinn and Finn. Finn looked into the distance, with almost disdain across his face as Quinn rested her head on his chest, his hand clinging her waist, and hers to his burly shoulder. At the sight of Rachel entering the room, he momentarily dropped Quinn's hand, his mouth dangling as he scanned her, the light highlighting the heights of her face and the contours of her delicate frame. Once he realized what he was doing he once again took his dancing position, apologizing as he did so. Mercedes spotted Puck's Mohawk over the crowd, and sure enough there he was with none other than Lauren Zeizes. And the look in his eyes was alien to Mercedes. It wasn't lust, passion, or even longing. It was respect. It was love. And they had been Christened, the inevitable couple.

Moving farther back into the sea of familiar faces were Tina and Mike. Tina stood with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes while Mike came up with every solo dance move imaginable, easily distinguishable from the generic side steps of everyone else in the auditorium.

"Well should we… dance?" Rachel inquired, looking expectantly at Mercedes. "Umm I think we could scope out some other loners, seeing as neither of us have dance partners." Rachel sighed, then followed Mercedes to the punch table where they both sat down. Rachel had her elbow on the table, and her cheek propped in her hand. Mercedes could see her looking at Finn. Everyone in the Glee club knew that Quinn was only using Finn to get crowned prom queen. Everyone except for Finn. Rachel tried telling Finn but he didn't listen to her. He knew that she still had feelings for him, and considering she didn't deny it, he questioned her motives, and in extension, her lack of judgement. No one else in the Glee club wanted to become involved, so no one backed her up. Regardless of how undeniable the situation was. Quinn almost had an aneurism when Finn admitted that he still didn't have his tuxedo a mere week before the prom. She had actually pulled him out of class to take him tux shopping, and he still didn't believe what Rachel was saying, or even if he did realize it, he was too stubborn to believe it. Rachel wasn't the only one staring at the couple, though. Sam kept his distance, gripping the waist of another nameless ex-cheerio, but every chance he got he would glance back at them and with an expression of what looked to be contempt. Sam had dumped Santana after her trouty mouth sonnet, and once she had admitted her feelings to Brittany, she thought it was useless to keep pretending that she had feelings for Sam, so there wasn't any tension between the two, despite the break up.

Mercedes didn't believe her eyes but it was undeniable. Santana and Brittany were dancing. Together. Brittany was leading and Santana was holding her shoulder staring straight into Brittany's eyes. Mercedes almost slapped herself having not seen their chemistry before, but after the duet they had done with Ms. Holiday, and the fact that they were inseparable, the pieces fit. Judging by the look on Rachel's face, she made the connection too and was equally surprised.

20 minutes had passed. The clock on the wall ticked like a bomb. The two wouldn't go this whole night without a dance, they couldn't come this far just to be pushed back down. The disco lighting dispersed itself about the room, reflecting off the sheen of the newly polished gymnasium floors. The aura was almost magical as the night began to progress.

Mercedes and Rachel were what seemed to be the only two people who had any revere of time. In the very corner of the gym stood the only too familiar statures of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson. And Mercedes couldn't help but smile at the sight of them. Blaine, despite his disadvantage in height, was leading. The two were mere inches away from one another, swaying carelessly to an unheard beat. At the abrupt slowing of the music, Kurt leaned into Blaine, his shoulder a perfect height to rest his head.

Rachel saw a hand reaching towards her. Before she could emit any kind of reaction, she was lifted to her feet, looking up at two soft brown eyes. "Finn?" She queried, completely astonished. And then he smiled, his mouth formulating into that perfect curve Rachel had missed so much."What about Quinn?" He made a small gesture with his neck that Rachel followed, only to spot Quinn and Sam in a tight embrace, their feet rocking slightly. "I'm sorry." She said, not meaning one ounce of it. Finn shook his head dismissively. If he contained even a single trace of regret, he hid it well. "We both realized that we had feelings for someone else." Rachel stared at her feet in order to hide the inevitable grin that now laced itself ear to ear. She mustered herself to straighten her face and looked back up at Finn, remembering Mercedes and how she, herself would've felt if the only other person that she could relate to became just another faceless robot amongst this ocean of people. Looking back, she saw Mercedes smiling. _Have fun! _She mouthed. And Rachel turned and placed her head on Finn's chest, counting his heartbeat through his crisp white shirt, pressing her arms tighter into his back. She knew she deserved it.

Mercedes knew torture. It was torture to go through all of high school with only one relationship, and that relationship being a complete scam. It was torture to be teased and pestered every day of your life. It was torture to feel so distant from every other human being on this earth, and It was torture to sit and watch all of her friends find their sanctuary while she sat, completely isolated. But she knew nothing of torture compared to the boy that sat, unnoticed in the corner watching his date dance happily with another person. _What the hell am I doing here? _He thought in malice. _I'm making things worse for myself. I should just go home. _Not only could he not dance with the girl of his dreams at prom but he simply couldn't dance at prom. At all. "Artie?" He looked up, shaking himself from his thoughts. "Hi Mercedes," He forced a smile. "Are you here alone, too?" A smile traced it's way over her face. She took the seat next to him, removing his hand from his lap and then holding on to it, letting her head lean in and rest gently against his shoulder. The funny thing was, that he let her. He didn't protest and he didn't make an effort to move. In fact, he squeezed her hand back. He didn't know if it was the fact that there was someone there with him, or that he had came to a sudden epiphany. But he didn't regret coming anymore. And he stayed for the rest of the night in that little corner beside the punch bowl. "No," She said simply. "I'm not alone." And despite the thousands of beams gleaming throughout the gymnasium, the small metal band around her finger seemed to shine the brightest.


End file.
